


Frosty The Snowman

by TryingToMystrade (TryingToScribble)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Snow, Snowmen, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27842095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TryingToScribble/pseuds/TryingToMystrade
Summary: Frosty the Snowman probably is cliche, but so is this fic soooo
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	Frosty The Snowman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookjunkiecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookjunkiecat/gifts).



> On the second day of Christmas and all that jazz... ;)  
> [Frosty the Snowman](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIyVB1b2aBs)

Greg bursts into Mycroft’s home office without so much as knocking and strides straight over to the biggest window overlooking the street. He knows that he wouldn’t have been able to even open the door if he wasn’t wanted. “Snow! There’s snow! It’s snowing!” He’s so excited that he may have shouted it through the door anyway.

“I am aware.” Comes the very unenthusiastic reply.

Greg baulks and turns to stare at his partner. “Come on, Myc! Snow is exciting! The snowball fights, the snowmen, the white Christmas.”

Mycroft just hums and Greg knows he isn’t quite listening. He steps up to Mycroft’s desk to lean against it, arms crossed, without coming between Mycroft and the laptop screen.

“Do you not remember how exciting it was to throw snow at your brother? How satisfying it was to make a snowman?”

“No.”

“What? You didn’t find the excitement in destroying your brother? You?”

“No. We didn’t do those things.”

“Do you mean to tell me you’ve actually never made a snowman?” Greg asks, astonished. Surely everyone has made a snowman when they were a kid, even just once.

“No.”

Mycroft simply shrugs but it’s his frown that Greg notices. “We’re changing that this year,” he decides. He looks out of the window again. “Actually, make that today. Finish whatever you’re writing. We’re going out.”

“Gregory, I cannot just leave-”

“Nope. You can. You’re not at work. Let’s go!”

“This is important. It matters not that I am working from home rather than in my office.”

Greg stares at him a moment. “How important?”

Mycroft would probably stare right back if he even took the time to look away from whatever he was looking at on his laptop. “Life and limb depend on this report.”

“A report?” Greg asks innocently. “If you were writing a report that important you wouldn’t have let me barge in here and scream about the snow.”

Mycroft does look up at that. “You are hardly screaming.”

Greg raises his eyebrow just like he’s learned from the man he’s giving it to. “I can.”

There are a few beats where they seem to each wait for the other to say or do something. Mycroft is deciding if Greg would indeed scream if he says he doesn’t want to go out and Greg is waiting for Mycroft to say no so that he can scream a little in retaliation.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yes. Let me get my hat, coat, and gloves. Yours too. I don’t need you complaining later.”

“Awesome!” Greg pumps the air with a fist when Mycroft logs off and stands. Mycroft rolls his eyes but he’s smiling now.

***

There’s no one else outside. The growing darkness and unexpected quiet has Greg grinning again.

“It’s magical.”

“Indeed.” Mycroft admits quietly, finally with his own smile. He is looking at Greg rather than the snow, though, and Greg blushes when he notices.

He huffs and pushes at Mycroft with his shoulder. “Shut up. Flattery won’t get you out of this. Come on!”

Mycroft watches as Greg bounds over to a small, fenced off, public garden across the road. Greg sees it as the perfect place to build a snowman that will last if it’s protected a little. He doesn’t much care for leaving their future creation on the side of the street like he may once have done as a child. Mycroft follows at a more sedate pace, not entirely sure about the whole thing. 

When Mycroft steps around the fence to join Greg, Greg is already crouching to scoop snow into a ball. Once the ball is a ball and not a flimsy clump of snowflakes that cannot hold its form, Greg starts to roll it about to collect more snow and grow.

He looks over his shoulder to find Mycroft. He flicks his head in the opposite direction, beckoning the man over. “Come on, Myc. It’s fun. I promise.”

Mycroft hesitates briefly but does step forward and crouches on the other side of Greg. He is apprehensive, of course. It’s freezing and soon they will be freezing and wet. Not the greatest combination.

Greg knows what Mycroft is thinking. He likes to think he does most of the time. He unwinds the scarf from around his own neck and throws it around Mycroft’s. When Mycroft looks up Greg smiles at him. Mycroft smiles back.

“Okay.”

***

Greg silently offers a carrot to Mycroft who just shakes his head with a startled laugh.

Greg slams the carrot into the middle of the face with the biggest grin. “There! Done.” He exclaims. His gloved hands slap together and then he shoves them deep into his pockets as he leans back into the body behind him.

“You just had that in your pocket?” Mycroft asks incredulously.

“I’m not a complete nut. I grabbed it on the way out.”

Mycroft rolls his eyes fondly. Of course. “So what shall we call our lovely little snowman?” Mycroft asks as his arms come around Greg.

“It’s not that little.” Greg defends but he can’t lie when it stands below their chests. Face twisting a little, Greg thinks on it a moment before giggling. “We could always call it John.” He jokes just to feel that rumbling against his back where Mycroft joins him in laughing.

“Is Frosty too cliche?”

Mycroft smiles and hooks his chin over Greg’s shoulder. “Not at all, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, Savvy.


End file.
